


Deep Waters

by disturbed_hound



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Prince Stiles, Werewolf Derek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-15 23:20:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7242937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disturbed_hound/pseuds/disturbed_hound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is born into the Royal Stilinski family, and you know how boring it can be following all the rules every day of your life. So he doesn't. He sneaks off to the forest from time to time, the behavior beginning when he's just a child. All he wants is a place to himself where his father isn't constantly looking down on him. What he finds instead is a boy living in the woods, a boy who wants nothing to do with Stiles. Too bad he doesn't know how to be told "no".</p><p>Or -- the one where Stiles is a prince and finds himself befriending a werewolf, against his family's wishes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deep Waters

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know-- look at me. Starting two wip's when I just finally started writing fic? Yeah well, I need multiple things to do at once in order to not be bored. 
> 
> So here we go, yet another fic I've had on the tip of my tongue but never wrote.
> 
> More tags and warnings to be added/changed as the chapters are posted. (un-beta'd)

"Stiles be careful out there, won't you?" 

"Yes pa!" He called; voice ringing out across the field. His legs were long and skinny, far too large for a boy of his age. He was always told he would grow into them, making for a tall prince in the days to come. That was years from now, however. He wouldn't take the crown until his father was ready to step down. And hell, thay wouldn't be soon either. For he was expected to marry before taking the crown. But Stiles wasn't interested in any of that- no he wanted to _explore_. Not many understood his need for it, but the trees made interesting friends and the forest life always remained shy like himself. It was his personal goal to win the trust of one particular gray bunny. 

Today was a particularly warm day, beads of sweat accumilating across his forehead. His feet were bare, as usual (which his mother despised), and a leather sheathe hung from his waist-- slapping against his bony leg as he ran. There was nothing but a wooden sword inside, though he usually left it at home before he ran off to the woods as he was afraid he would lose it. But he'd just come from a training session, and today had been filled with nothing but work so he'd been a little excited to finally run off to _his_ place. 

He loved it out here, with no one out here to bark orders at him or a list of rules for him to follow and obey. Speaking of... He reached up, untucking his shirt from where it was bedded in his shorts. He was only ten and already sick of all the rules forced onto him by staff and his father. They all meant well, he knew of this. But he wanted to be free sometimes and not have to succumb to the rules _all_ the time. But, it was for the sake of his father. They always had visitors, his father always had a meeting to attend to. Most of the matters his father discussed was the on coming threats of werewolves and how they planned to attack their villages. He knew his father was trying to win over the Argent family, but he hated them. Everytime they came over they always brought these two...girls. One older than him named Kate and one named Allison. Allison was okay enough, when she wasn't crying her eyes out. Kate was always bullying-- and everytime Stiles went to tattle she'd force him not to. And when he _did_ tattle his father always told him to play nice, because they needed their favor. Essentially he was to suck it up. 

And Stiles could certainly do that. He knew how to play a fake smile, how to hold himself and how to play nicely. Didn't mean he liked it though. And he saw the way the Argents regarded his father, so cruely- like they wanted his land and the Stilinski family gone. But, he never voiced such concerns. His father had enough to deal with. 

But all that was why he loved the forest so much. He could forget all that. He could pay attention to much more important matters. Like the gray bunny crossing his path right now. "Hey there! About time you showed yourself again. I was beginning to think you had-- Oh!" The boy bent down to the rabbit's level, shoving his knees into the dirt while his fingers dug into his pocket, searching. The rabbits wide eyes regarded him cautiously, nose and ears twitching at all the movement Stiles was making. This was certainly a large step to the past times he had tried to get close, however. At least now the rabbit had grown used to the babbling. 

His hand pulled free a carrot, and it was quickly shoved into the rabbit's view. "Sorry it's all sweaty," Stiles apologized, rubbing the item across his shorts as if that could wipe his scent from it. His muddy hands were surely ruining all his efforts, however. Once he deemed it "clean" by his shorts he held it out to the rabbit. Who didn't like it at all. It darted off into the bush after giving Stiles it's best ear flick and hopping away. "Hmph." The boy fell back on his calves, glaring at the bush the animal had disappeared to. Anyone else would have told him he was encountering a different gray bunny every time he came out here-- he wouldn't believe it though. He was very sure of himself that it was the same one, every day. 

"Well, sir Fluff, we'll meet again." He sighed. He hoped that one day the rabbit would grow fond enough of him that he could pick it up and take him home. His dad wouldn't like it, but Stiles was convincing enough. He just wanted a friend was all. 

"I'll get you one day, Fluff!" Stiles called, dropping to his back with a frown on his face. Perhaps his omnious approach wouldn't help his situation. He couldn't help it though. That rabbit was always around when he went on one of his rants. Made him think it was actually listening to him...when everyone else just tuned him out. Sure he didn't rant about the most important subjects but-- it still helped him feel appreciated. 

"I could promise you a thousand carrots and more, you know! And a nice warm home. And all the petting you could possibly want! You're really missing out--" He broke off, head jerking upwards at the movement in the bush next to him. "I knew you'd be back! Couldn't resist the tempation of always being with me, huh?" 

Except it wasn't the bunny. It was a boy, whose red eyes were burning holes through Stiles. His eyes drew away from the eyes to find themselves focused on something much more terrifying. Long fangs jutted over his lips, which were curled upwards in a silent snarl. His hair was choppy and short, revealing the pointed ear tips. The boy was predatory, like he could rip Stiles apart in an instant. And it would hurt, if his pointed dirty finger nails had anything to say about it. Stiles visibly swallowed, hands clawing at the dirt and feet kicking him backwards. 

He knew exactly what this was. His father would sneer, and call him a were pup-- But if he was a young one, it surely meant his family was close by. Which meant Stiles life was in immient danger. And yet all he could do was stare wildly at the approaching boy. 

"You're...weird." That earned a snarl, and a cringe from Stiles himself. When he finally came close enough he regarded Stiles cautiously, like all the other forest animals before he dropped to all fours and shuffled closer. His nose twitched as he sniffed at him, brows drawing together at the scent. Stiles wasn't sure whether to be offended or thankful he wasn't dead yet. "Whoa whoa--okay, sto AAH-!" The wereboy was on top of him now, a fingers around his throat to hold him down to the dirt. As if he would risk running anyway. He continued his antics of sniffing, and looking up and down his once clean shirt. Whatever the wereboy was dressed in, it was nothing but tatters. Surely old clothes he had found tossed away somewhere. "Ooh please don't eat me. I don't have much on me! I could bring you food even, as payment for not eating me. Or new clothes even? I mean where did you even get those? It looks like they'll just pull apart and that's not exactly good--"

Suddenly Stiles no longer had the boys attention. The were stiffened on top of him, head snapping towards a crack. It had Stiles freezing up, his blood running cold and pure fear racing through his system. Was it his family come to join in? Or something worse? Oh god... He was going to die out here. The boy leapt off him, feet kicking the air out of his chest and causing him to roll over with a groan. He glared after the boy as he leapt into the bush. The leaves rattled, twigs snapping and leaves crunching as he seemed to battle whatever he had encountered. 

Stiles took the blessing to scramble to his feet, bent down as if he were ready to bolt. He should have ran home anyway. Should have crept away to the safety of his father and his home. But instead he was caught like a deer in the headlights, brown eyes wide with fear. 

When the wereboy emerged from the bush, in his hand was the rabbit. It curled in on itself in fear, unable to move from where the boy held it by its scruff. Immediately Stiles darted forward, ripping the bunny from his hold and cradling it against his chest without thinking. "No! You can't hurt him!" He thought about running before the wereboy's brain could catch up to what he just did, but couldn't move. Could only stare determinedly as the boy watched him with a slack jaw, unbelieving. 

And then the rabbit scrambled. It's claws dug at Stiles chest, ripping both shirt and skin as it scrambled from his hold. And scramble it did, hopping from his shoulder and darting into the underbush-- probably long gone. A growl escaped the wereboy, and he bet he would have took off after it, if not for the fact he cried out in pain, stumbling backwards and clutching at his chest. Blood was welling, soaking into his shirt. His dad would never let him come back after this. Well, if he managed to stay alive. 

He didn't even notice that the boy had crept back over to him, concern surprisingly written all over his face. Stiles didn't really know what happened but at one moment his body was filled with pain, and in the next his brain was fuzzy and the pain was gone completely. When he looked down, the only blood remaining was the spot staining his shirt. Almost as if it hadn't happened. Almost. 

"Did you...?"

But when he looked up the boy wasn't there. The only sign of another being being the to and fro swinging of a branch. He was gone then. Stiles didn't want to risk it if he was going off to retrieve reinforcements. Angry reinforcements to make Stiles pay for losing their dinner. 

He ripped himself from the ground, rushing from the forest and back to the safety of his home. Stiles wished he was nothing but fearful-- but in truth he wanted nothing more than to go find the werewolf boy and find out everything about him. And because of this he knew he would be back. He just hoped he wouldn't die next time either.


End file.
